Pendulum
by Remy Alvera
Summary: What if Sam had died earlier than expected? How much would change? Lizzington ! AU!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Pendulum

**Author: **Remy Alvera

**Pairing: **Lizzington!

**Rating: **R

**Warnings: **Language, Violence, Character Death, Torture, Criminal Activity's - AU

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Blacklist.

**Summery: **What if Sam had died earlier? How much would change? Lizzington! AU!

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><p><em>Pendulum; used to refer to the tendency of a situation to oscillate between one extreme and another.<em>

Have you ever wanted to just pack up and leave? To set out into the world, to see everything you can possibly see in your life time? Has it ever bothered you to know you will never see everything the world has to offer?

If you could leave right now, where would you go? Would you throw a bag in a car and just set off?

Where is the first place that pops to mind when you think of travel? For me, it's the world, and just the world. There is no set place, no one place I have a desire to go to, because I want to see every place, I want to leave and explore and just be _free_.

So that's what I did when my dad – Sam – died a few months back. After his funereal I just packed up, and well left. At the time I had been dedicated to becoming an FBI proflier, but after his death I felt like I had been slapped in the face.

I dropped my classes the day after, and then I left without a single word to anyone, and that explains why I'm here now, standing in some shabby motel with a duffle bag resting at my ankles and a black back pack hanging on my right shoulder.

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><p><strong>AN: So, my newest idea. Yes, I'm still working on my other stories, their just coming slower. Anyway, this is is most likely going to be the only part in first person. Oddly enough I used to be great at writing in first person, but I find now with certain stories I can write in third better. **

**W.E.I.R.D. **

**Anywho, if this has peaked your interest you should go to my Blacklist oneshot and read/review~ the next chapter is all wrote up and coming with some reviews – in third person – enjoy~**

**R&R**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Pendulum

**Author: **Remy Alvera

**Pairing: **Lizzington!

**Rating: **R

**Warnings: **Language, Violence, Character Death, Torture, Criminal Activity's - AU

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Blacklist.

**Summery: **What if Sam had died earlier? How much would change? Lizzington! AU!

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><p>"Elizabeth Keen?" The older man with a bit of a pudgy stomach raised an eyebrow at her, most likely wondering why someone of her age looked so travel worn. Her dark brown hair had been thrown into a sloppy bun, dark bags sat under her eyes – broadcasting to the world her lack of sleep – and to make matters worse not a spec of makeup could be seen upon her skin.<p>

"Yup, that's me." She hummed, rocking back on her heels. The man shot her one more skeptical look before he lazily tossed the room key onto the counter, and it slid forward loudly.

"Room 4B" He grunted, pulling a newspaper out from under the counter and turning away. She rolled her eyes at his back before snatching the key from the counter and stomping out side to take the stairs up to her room.

It was everything she had expected. Worn carpets that at one point had most likely been white, ugly green walls with white blotches here and there – plaster to hide holes, a busted up desk and a shabby old chair that did not match the rooms color scheme _at all_, and a small, twin sized bed.

With a small sigh she dropped her bags onto the floor, and collapsed down onto the bed that creaked under her weight. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

**. . .**

Liz woke up to sweet silence. She wasn't exactly sure how long she had slept for, but she felt more well rested than she had been in awhile. Sluggishly, she stood and made her way into the small bathroom, and after a nice shower gone wrong when the hot water abruptly turned cold, the brunette stalked out naked into her room, grumbling darkly under her breath as she pulled on a soft sweater and a pair of faded jeans.

After dutifully putting on her make up and light pink lipstick, Liz shrugged on her tan jacket.

She wanted to explore the town she had settled in for the night before she headed out again. Her next stop would be D.C. if everything went well_. _Humming she pulled on her shoes, grabbed her book, and set out into the fray.

**. . .**

A light drizzle had taken up outside, turning the asphalt black and the sky gray. Liz walked with her book tucked under her arm and her hands stuffed in her coat pockets; hood pulled up over her still drying hair.

She went on until she came across a small cafe, and once there the woman settled in with her _Psychology For You _book in her lap and a steaming hot cup of Joe in front of her.

This kind of life had been a lot easier than she had expected to adapt to. The mere freedom of being able to pick up and leave whenever she wanted was exhilarating and it made her feel like she had such control over everything she did. In another month or two, she would have to stop down somewhere and take up a job to get some money – or start doing little jobs every time she stopped, but this life, it made Liz feel...content.

She hummed softly to herself and glanced at the clock. She had been here for a few hours now, her once hot coffee half gone and turned cold. Marking her page, Liz stood to get a refill, and then she ventured outside once more, lightly jogging across the road so she could make her way back to her motel.

She never saw the black Mercedes sharply turn to corner until it was too late.

The driver of the fast car slammed on the breaks a second too late, and though the car slowed down, the bumper hit the side of Liz's leg with enough force to knock the girl down. Her coffee went flying as her head collided with the asphalt with a loud _crack!_

She let out a low groan of pain as the concrete sliced into her palms, releasing her life blood to the ground below. Her eyes were stuck shut but she heard two car doors swing open, and she heard sirens in the distance. Was it too much to hope that these were the police?

There was a long moment of silence, and then-

"Is that-" The question was cut short.

"Dembe, put her in the car." The males voice was deep and commanding, like a low rumble and it sent chills down her spin as hands seized her shoulders and hefted her up. _Nope, not the police._

As gently as it seemed possible, she was shoved into the backseat of a car, the door slamming shut behind her followed by two more doors, and then the car was moving. Elizabeth moaned in pain as she forced her eyes open, sports of white sparkling in her vision and making her squeeze them shut once more. A pair of strong hands took hold of Liz's shoulders, pulling her backwards so she lay out.

"You have a head injury." The same voice from before spoke low, but it still made her head thrum painfully. She groaned in pain as a response. It almost sounded like the man tsk'd at her. _Who the hell does he think he is! He ran me over with his car and now he's what? Kidnapping me?! _ She tired in vain to wiggle free from his grasp, a part of her mind screaming at her that her head was in his **lap**.

"Relax," The man was practically cooing at her, nimble fingers running through her hair gently. Liz's body was relaxing without her consent. "Relax Lizzie." The words barely registered as her world turned black.

**. . .**

When Liz came to, she was not in her motel room, that much was for sure. The bed was much too big, too soft, and the sheets that were wrapped around her were silky and smooth, nothing like the rough fabrics she had to huddle up in before. She felt like she was laying on a cloud in heaven, despite the pain in her head.

Liz stretched out and twisted in the sheets, arching her back like a cat would, before settling back down with a small huff. She did a mental inventory. Her left hand was covered with gauze, her right had one single large band aid on the palm, and her head was wrapped in gauze as well. Her jacket, shoes and...pants had been removed.

Lizzie's eyes shot open and she sat up, throwing the maroon sheets off of her in one swift movement before her shoulders sagged. Both of her knees were covered by bandages, which would explain why she was lacking her pants. She must have been pretty banged up.

Liz slowly stood and ran her less injured hand through her hair. The room was big and spacious. The king sized bed rested in the middle of the room, mahogany wood work making the maroon sheets seem so vibrant. The walls and carpet matched the bed sheets, and the drapes over the only window in the room where black with light gray patterns playing across the fabric. A desk and vanity of the same wood work as the bed also occupied space in the room, the carving on each piece elegant and expensive looking.

There were three doors in the room, one leading to freedom, and the other two most likely lead to the closet and bathroom. The brunette shifted her weight from foot to foot for a moment, before deciding that she should find something other than her panties to wear when she choose the right door, if it was even unlocked, if it wasn't there was always the window though.

Deciding on her first door, she carefully turned the handle, and pulled it open. It was a large, walk in closet containing nothing but men's clothes. Her breath hitched and her mouth dropped open. This was all for _one_ man?

"Jesus," She breathed, stumbling further in. Most of the outfits were parts of suits, and though Liz had to admit that dedicating the whole back wall to fedora's was a _bit _over the top, it was well organized.

Ignoring how utterly poor this mans clothing selection made her feel, she set to work going through the closest dresser to her, giving a whoop of victory when she found an unopened pack of men's boxer briefs. She fought with herself for a moment, before deciding to ignore how it could be incredibly awkward when she _does_ actually meet the man who's undergarments she was about to don belonged to, and pulled out the black and gray pair and shimming into them.

The near spendex material clung to her curves and ended mid thigh, but now that she was at least decently covered Liz felt a bit more confident in stepping out of the room.

She left the closet door open, and only feeling slightly bad about going through someone else's valuables, Liz swung open the next door she came too, which opened up to a large hallway. She let out a breath she hadn't really realized she had been holding before timidly walking out of the room, and starting in a random direction down the hall.

"This house is not going to belong to some serial killer." She quietly reassured herself, subconsciously rubbing the scar on her right wrist.

"No creepy guys live here, nope." She went on with her manta, shoving the fear that sprung up in her stomach behind a big bulky door and locking it up tight.

"No perverts," She was humming to herself under her breath now, eyes darting around.

"No rapists," Liz's bear feet padded lightly on the carpeted ground.

"No criminals." She finished with a bit of confidence as she hesitantly went to turn a corner. To be honest she was rather surprised that she hadn't run into anyone ye-

"What was that last part?" The voice made her jump half a foot in the air and spin around, eyes widening at the unfamiliar man who stood a little ways away from her. He was a few inches taller than her, with short cut blonde hair with a few whips of white here and there, clearly a few years older, but he was rather attractive...

The man wore a perfectly tailored suit, expensive wool, a tie made of what looked like the finest of silks, of course a fedora – what else had she expected anyway? - and perfectly shinned leather shoes. The fabric was clean and pressed, not a spec of dirt anywhere to be seen. He radiated power and money and it made a chill shoot down her back.

"No criminals..." Liz answered without really thinking, and then blinked at her own stupidity.

The man lazily tossed his head back and let out a soft laugh that rumbled in his chest and made her knees feel weak. Who _was_ he?

"Perfect." He hummed, before taking a step forward. She responded by taking a step backwards.

"Where am I?" She snapped, clearly annoyed. Then again, he had hit her with his car, and then he proceeded to shove her into the car, and well, now she was here, where ever here was.

"I must admit you look ravishing in that outfit, how did you ever pick it out?" The man easily changed the subject, his eyes twinkling at her expense. Liz's face went five different shades of red (and for one moment a shade of purple) before she settled for glaring at the man who's underwear she was currently sporting like a pair of shorts.

"Not to worry sweetheart-" Liz wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him for the pet name and blush. "You jeans weren't savable, we had to cut them off to tend to your wounds." Before she could respond, his eyes swept downwards, shamelessly taking in everything that was offered to him before they traveled back to to her eyes.

"_Fine_," He breathed the word so softly she could have missed it if there had been some more noise in the hallway.

"_Excuse me?!" _Liz hissed, her eyes flashing. He worked at the side of his mouth, most likely biting the inside of his cheek.

"Your legs look fine." He answered calmly, and she seemed to visibly deflate.

"Where am I?" Liz asked again, all the strength gone from her voice.

"My safe house."

"Wait, what?"

He laughed once again before setting a steady pace forward until he stood in front of her, more of less towering over the brunette.

"You are in my safe house." He repeated, and Elizabeth missed out his fingers twitched, the desire to rest them on her shoulders nearly too strong to bear, but he manged.

"What is you name?" She asked abruptly, changing the topic. He did it again, working the inside of his cheek with his teeth, as if if deep thought.

"Raymond Reddington." She hesitated for a moment at this bit of information. Why did that name sound so familiar? Like she had read it somewhere before? She mentally pushed the thought aside for now, she would think on that later.

"O-Kay, so let me get this straight, you ran me over with your car, proceeded to put me in said car, and then instead of taking me to the hospital or calling 911, you take _me_ to _your _house?" Both eyebrows had lifted to her hairline, and a small smile spread across his features.

"Yes but you are forgetting one thing."

"And what's that?"

"As soon as you were put in that car, I kidnapped you."

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><p><strong>AN: How was that? You all have no idea how hard it is to write them both. Ugh. Oh for anyone who doesn't know the little-**

**( . . . )**

**Is for a change of scene, one part ending and going into the next, etc, etc. Next chapter is typed and ready, just waiting~**

**Dani.777: Thank you so very much for your review! As hard as it was to write this, I really enjoyed it!**

**city bookworm: Thank you! I hope I haven't made the characters too OOC**

**bigbird12: I'm sure I would take off as well, thank you for your review :)**

**iknopp: Thank you! Here is the update! I hope you like. **

**terry1961: Thanks! I wanted to do something a bit different! **

**R&R**


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